


High School Soulmates

by bruvebanner, roshytsunami



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Incredible Hulk (2008), The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Body Hair, Chest Hair, M/M, Puberty, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-19 18:59:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3620715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bruvebanner/pseuds/bruvebanner, https://archiveofourown.org/users/roshytsunami/pseuds/roshytsunami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a society where the name of your soulmate appears when you start puberty or after you have matured Bruce just can't seem to catch a break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Name

Clint was bored and tired not a good combination to be in. He just wanted to go back home and sleep when he spotted his giant. He grins to himself as he sneaks up behind him before jumping on him piggy back style.

“Hey giant when did you get your pubes because I swear I got a full set last night woot woot. I’m becoming a man,” he said deeply as he held onto Bruce with one arm.

Bruce, all gangly limbs and nervousness, was just trying to get from one class to the next without being bothered, but of course his little demon of a friend would choose then to appear and attack him. Clint was fun, but he was also a bit of a little jerk.

“Hey Clint,” he mumbled, blushing and hunching slightly as he took the shorter boys weight. “And, uh, I’m not going to talk about your body hair, or mine, Clint, that’s just weird.”

“It’s not weird you just think it’s weird. Guys talk about it all the time. Do you know what this means? I can shower in the stalls without getting called out as a baby.”

He jumps down from Bruce reaching up to Bruce’s shoulder and walks with him. “Come on you have to understand. You’ve gone through everything already. It’s not fair to put that much awesome manliness in one guy.” He pouts, “I’ve only grown one measly inch in a year an inch Bruce,” he sighs, “which class are you heading to now?”

Sometimes Clint’s mouth moved faster than Bruce’s thoughts, and one conversation switched to the next before he could reply. He rolled his eyes, adjusting his glasses.

“I’m headed to Biology. And /you/ are supposed to be headed to class too, not whining about being short. Most boys don’t mature as quickly as you’d think, Clint; you’ll be taller than me by senior year, I’m sure.”

He pouts before whining, “Bruce that’s forever away,” he sighs, “it’s not fair I wanna be a giant like you god can’t you get that.” He keeps walking with him to his class and pulls his arm so he can’t walk in the classroom.

He grimaces thinking about biology, “eck biology how can you take a class like that? Come on just skip it you already have an A in the class already and I have study hall next. I’ll be bored,” he says poking Bruce.

Bruce glanced from Clint to his classroom, frowning slightly—of course, he’d usually give a 100% no and leave his whiny best friend to pout, but on glancing into the room he saw Talbot sitting at the back of class, apparently back from his suspension.

Bruce easily said yes after that. “Fine, but if we get caught I’m saying you coerced me and that it’s all your fault…short-stuff.” He smirked at Clint, rolling his eyes.

Clint watches Bruce look back and forth in the classroom and frowns.

“Do I need to kick someone’s ass again cause I will,” he grins trying to look over Bruce standing on his tip toes to see who set Bruce off. He doesn’t get a chance when he hears Bruce say yes and woots.

“Yeah, yeah blame me not a big deal. The detention lady knows me by name anyway. Come on giant roof top of the school man,” he smiles grabbing Bruce by arm tugging him to follow him.

Clint passes most of the classrooms before looking at the do not enter sign. He sneaks up to the door and opens it and enters quickly signally Bruce to follow him.

“Watch your head Bruce very low in here,” he says climbing the stairs up to the roof. He kicks the door open and sticks a rock between the door to wedge it open once Bruce is outside and grins.

Bruce follows after Clint, ducking down and shaking his head as they go into the first place they’re bound to get in serious trouble for—but Clint always picks the roof, of course he does, so Bruce just rolls his eyes and follows his lead.

“You know, short-stuff, making fun of my height won’t help you grow,” he sasses, before ruffling Clint’s hair and going to sit near the edge of the roof, looking out into the vacant parking lot. “Your spite just might make you /shorter/.” He smirked, tossing a glance Clint’s way.

He scrunches his face as Bruce ruffles his hair before slapping his hand away. “Hey not all of us have manhood ripping right through us giant,” he grins trying to style his hair back to the way it was before sitting next to Bruce. “And don’t mess my hair up I’m not kid just cause I’m short,” he says sticking his tongue out at him.

Clint looks at Bruce’s face and frowns, “see you’re already shaving not cool. I can’t even get hairs to grow.” He looks at the side of his face and sighs, “Looks like you nicked yourself really good what happened freckles?”

Bruce chuckles softly at Clint’s whining, rolling his eyes. But then he pauses, just about to make a joke, and presses a hand to the spot Clint mentioned, clearing his throat and glancing away. “Nothing. Hand slipped,” he says with a jerky shrug, ignoring the memory of that morning.

Clint raises an eyebrow at that, “nope try again. Bruce I know you too much. Why did your hand slip,” he asked putting air quotes around the question.

Bruce huffed a breath, feeling heat crawl up his neck. “It’s /nothing/, I something and just got surprised, is all, and it slipped. No huge mystery to sniff out, Hawkeye.”

He glanced off, trying to avoid Clint’s watchful eyes, because Clint /did/ know him well, and was far too observant for Bruce’s tastes sometimes.

He looks at Bruce curiously and then the mark again and pokes him, “something’s not adding up Bruce. Come on you can tell me. Please come on it can’t be that bad…oh no is manhood ripping through you again,” he asks teasing him. “What is it this time? You getting hair everywhere, did you cut a zit,” he teases as he pokes him.

“Bruce come on tell me,” he whines as he pokes him. He pokes him for a few minutes.

“I’m not going to stop until you tell me giant.”

Bruce resolutely crosses his arms over his chest, ignoring the jabs at his side and keeping his face turned away, frowning. “Clint…” He grumbled, shaking his head.

But, of course, eventually Clint’s whining wore him down and he let out an annoyed burst of air. “Fine! I just…” He wrapped his arm’s tighter around his chest, not looking towards his friend. “I got…” He paused, blushing furiously. “The Name,” he mumbled, practically a whisper, before he cleared his throat. “Happy?”

Clint pauses in his poking at Bruce and gasps, “you got…oh wow. Must have been a big surprise this morning,” He grins and looks over at Bruce, “I’m happy for ya Bruce. You got a name that’s good news and…” he begins to frown and huffs crossing his arms.

“You got the Name,” he says pouting, “manhood ripping right through you not cool. Who is it? Can I see,” he asks trying to move Bruce’s arms out of the way to look at his chest.

“Do you know who it is,” he asks curious.

Bruce smacks Clint’s hand away instantly, before he scowls. “No, you can’t see it,” he replies, sounding affronted. “And…” He looks over at Clint, and then out off the edge of the roof, brow furrowed as his cheeks burn. “I have no idea who it is. Probably haven’t met them yet.”

Clint holds his hand and shakes it to get the sting out. He knew when he shouldn’t poke Bruce anymore. Unfortunately this didn’t happen often. He sighs and pats Bruce on the back, “You haven’t met them yet? That sucks. How are you gonna find them? Are you going to search for them at the center? Yeah you can do that and find them soon”

He grins thinking of the ways he can help out, “hey I could help you stalk them so you know what they are like first before the whole soulmate thing ruins it.”

Bruce shakes his head, pulling one leg to his chest. “I’m, uh, I don’t think I’m going to…Uh, look for them,” he said after a moment, blinking and looking down. “It’s not worth the time really. What with, erm, classes, and my job at the, uh, lab, and my da—” he clears his throat. “Dad not really wanting me to, uh, you know, be out more than I need to. I don’t really want to…” He looked over to Clint, face reddening again, before he glanced back down. “Don’t wanna bother.”

Clint’s gets a look of disgust, “your dad is an asshole Bruce. If I can see that your soulmate will too. Plus no time, pssh you make time. You can do it Bruce just do it. At least tell them.”

He stretches as the bell rings, “come on you nerd I know you want to go to your next class but we are definitely talking more about this at lunch.

Bruce stands, slouching and hugging his middle, before he elbows Clint lightly, headed for the door. “It’s not my fault /some/ of us like to get good grades, twerp,” he said, smirking, before he blew out a breath. “And my dad’s not…” He didn’t finish, of course, just frowned deeper and shook his head, before shouldering open the door. “Come on, /you/ gotta get to class too.”

Clint rubs his arm grinning, “ouch that really hurt Bruce. I’ll have you know I got a B on my history test last week,” he says sticking his tongue out at him.

Clint stands up on the ledge of the building and grins, “hey Bruce guess what I’m taller than you now,” he laughs before jumping down to the roof and going towards the door. He gets in front of Bruce and pushes him back.

“Let me go first freckles. I don’t mind getting a detention,” he smirks as he leaves the roof looking around and just seeing students rushing to get back to class, “clear Bruce.”

Bruce smiles softly when Clint isn’t looking, letting out a soft sigh, before he rushes up behind him and ruffles his hair, grinning. “Guess you have been studying, I take it all back, little man,” he says proudly, before going past his scout into the hall. “Now get to your next class and keep your grades up, or I’m going to have to tutor you for another semester!”

“Hey stop messing with my do Bruce. I’m not a kid,” he smiles at him feeling proud that Bruce likes that he was studying more. Half the reason why he studied was because he didn’t want to see Bruce’s puppy face of disappointment. He swears he perfected the kick puppy look.

Clint smirks waving to him, “you can tutor me anytime you want giant,” he laughs as he begins rushing to his next class.

Bruce grins at his friend, chuckling, before Clint turns his back; then his expression drops slightly, his gaze turning slightly forlorn, and he watches Clint go, pressing one hand absently over the slightly aching words etched across his chest.  
And then he turns and heads off to his next class, shoulders slumped and thoughts dark.


	2. The Protector

Clint wasn’t focused in his next class, worried more about Bruce. The guy needed to meet his soulmate otherwise he would be left wondering the what if’s. Clint looks down at his blank hairless chest and sighs grumbling, “not fair.”

He slumps over his desk pouting getting angry over something stupid. He wasn’t the shortest kid in class but he was pretty close. All he wanted to do was grow up already. He was tired of being the short archer kid and getting confused as a ten year old. He didn’t want a baby face anymore and as soon as he gets his first chin hair he’s going to shave his face because that would totally count as shaving.

He pouts and sighs trying to figure out how to make Bruce meet his soulmate. The only answer he had was knowing what his soulmate’s name was and Bruce wasn’t moving an inch to give him that name. He grins getting an idea. Maybe he can spill something on his chest or gym yeah gym. Bruce was in his class for gym he could totally catch a glimpse of his chest when he was changing and search for his soulmate.

Bruce just needed a little push and Clint was glad to provide that push. Bruce was his best bud he needed to be happy instead of slumping around in loose clothing and not standing up straight. It kind of drove Clint nuts but Bruce still did it, even to him sometimes. He didn’t get his giant sometimes. Bruce had to be almost the tallest kid in class or at least somewhere up there. It was weird he didn’t strut like he did. Maybe he needed to boost Bruce’s confidence first before the soulmate thing or he could do both. He sighs as he doodles some notes down for class before heading to lunch after the next class bell.

Bruce had been quietly panicking the entire day, ever since he’d caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He’d thought about The Name before, like everyone did, but he’d quickly written it off as unimportant. He’d just assumed, like his father always told him, that he didn’t /have/ a soulmate. Monsters don’t have souls, so how could they have someone linked with something none-existent? And he’d been okay with that, for a while; soulmates were burdensome, people you were stuck with the minute you found them. He didn’t want that; he wanted to live his life, escape this horrible town and his horrible father, and maybe move to another country, help the poor, something nice. He was sure, if he got a soulmate, they would try and keep him someplace he didn’t want to be.

But that morning, seeing those letters burned like a frightening branding into his chest, had sent him into a completely different kind of panic. Because he knew that name—he knew everything there was to /know/ about that name. And he wasn’t good enough, wasn’t ready, wasn’t /anything/ when planted next to the owner of that name.

And, to make matters worse, he had already been horribly, head-over-heels, tongue-tying-ly in love with that name.

So now he had to worry about someone finding out. Had to worry about /him/ finding out, asking questions. Being surprised and disappointed when he found out /Bruce/, some gangly, freckled, mop-topped giant with nothing good to claim himself by, was the person he was going to end up spending the rest of his life with. Bruce couldn’t handle that. He couldn’t. So he resolved to tell no one, and daydreamed excuses to give to Clint during the entirety of his class, startled out of it when the bell for lunch rang and he realized he was about to face his short little ball of terror.

Clint was already at their table when he spots Bruce, “hey freckles any luck finding your soulmate? They might be in your class,” he grins.

“Oh yeah you know what I was thinking since you’re freaking out so much over this maybe we can give you a makeover? I know it sounds girly but what else do you call it,” he chuckles. “Cause look at my awesome hair look at it. Did it all myself and it’s awesome style. I was thinking maybe a new hair cut would help ya out you know like give ya a confidence boost or some shit. Either that or you can start standing up straight and not hunching over so much. That can’t be good for your back and hey you should know since you’re into biology and stuff.”

He goes into his brown paper bag and pulls out some aluminum covered pepperoni pizza and begins to chow down on it and talk, “seriously dude I’m gonna either help you get confidence or find your soulmate and since you freaked out over it so much I’m guessing confidence booster is needed.” He pops his can of coke open and gives him a sly grin, “cause look at it this way they ain’t going anywhere soon name imprinted on your chest.”

Bruce is hardly sitting down before Clint verbally assaults him with one of his fast-paced idea swaps; and as Clint goes on Bruce pats his hair, slightly worried, and hunches a bit more, scowling, before he reaches into his own bag and pulls out his battered lunch box, pulling out the bruised apple and water bottle from inside. “Clint, I don’t need a makeover—I’m not looking for my soulmate, I already told you. I’m too busy.”  
He keeps his eyes on the table, ignoring the slight ache in his chest, and takes a bite of his apple. “I’m perfectly content being alone.”

Clint rolls his eyes at Bruce, “bullshit Bruce. You’re sitting with me at lunch. You don’t like to be alone. Bruce come on I’m trying to help you out here. Dude you got your Name already. That’s pretty awesome most people don’t get a name until they are in their twenties or later. You have extra years to track them down and claim them. Aren’t you excited about that at all,” he asks as he kicks him in the leg, “stop slouching man, be proud alright.”

Clint goes into his bag and pulls out some chips and looks at them, “you want these?”

Bruce’s face screws up into a scowl, and he kicks Clint back, before looking guilty and mumbling a quick ‘sorry’. “It’s not…that simple, okay, Clint?” He grumbles, reaching out with a nod to take the chips. “I mean, who says they’d even want me, huh? Not every soulmate ends up happy.” He knows he’s grasping at straws, but he doesn’t much care; he’s just feeling dismal. “And, I mean, what’s so great about a soulmate? Somebody who you /have/ to love, how stupid is that?” He starts nibbling at a chip grumpily. “Not gonna go look for ‘em, not gonna go do anything for ‘em. You can be mister romantic all you want.”

“Well you never know unless you ask them…so just ask them,” he says shrugging his shoulders, “worse thing that happens is they say no or something. Plus the whole soulmate thing doesn’t mean you have to love someone just means the person’s name you get on your chest is your best match. It’s not like they’re going to be perfect,” he grins.

“I mean look at me I’m a midget so I doubt mine is going to want anything to do with me. Plus I have a baby face and it’s not fair,” he pouts, “you at least look half way decent just need to be more confident and bam your soulmate won’t know what hit them,” he smiles as he grabs a chip and pops it in his mouth.

"Your’s will be lucky to have you, Clint," Bruce mumbled, sighing and resting his chin on his hand, looking across the table at his friend. "You’re a catch. You’re just caught up on growing up—trust me, it sucks." Bruce liked how Clint looked; he was small, but he was fierce, and he was smooth-faced and bright eyed and impishly handsome. Bruce was just awkward.

“I dunno, I guess…” He looked at Clint, frowned, pressed his face into his palm. “I’ll think about it, okay? I only just got the Name today. Gimme some time, pushy little twerp.”

“Pssh you don’t have to tell me it sucks. I look like a ten year old in high school not cool when your friend looks like a real man and you look like a little boy. Seriously, raging boners at everything that moves but nothing else to show I’m a real guy. It sucks Bruce.” He chuckles, “Bruce I got one in Math class Math class. Dude numbers turn me on I guess,” he laughs.

He grins, “yeah well when you’re ready we’re going to catch you your soulmate,” he smiles as he kicks him under the table again, “that was for calling me a twerp you giant,” he teases.

He was only half paying attention as he munched on the chip, but when Clint started blabbering about boners Bruce’s face flushed red, and he glared at Clint. “Could you /not/ rant about your math fetish while I’m trying to eat? What, do you want this ‘real man’ to seduce you with my knowledge of Pythagorean theorem? Jeez.” He grumbled into his food, managing not to kick Clint back; he was trying to be nice. 

“And my soulmate, my business, yah cherib. Calm down about it.”

Clint grins and grips the table and moans, “oh yes Pythagorean theorem Bruce more tell me more tell what does two plus two equal, what are shapes, give me that line formula oh yes” he asks hitching his breath like he’s about to let loose it before he smirks at Bruce.

“Ha…and don’t call me a cherib whatever that means it sounds bad.”

Bruce’s whole face flushed red and he glared Clint down like he might throttle him, rubbing his face with his hands. “Oh my /god/ why am I friends with you,” he groaned in embarrassment, before glancing around nervously. “Clint, please refrain from making /sex noises/ in the middle of the cafeteria, or I will call you a terrible little cherub in front of that red-headed exchange student you like, and /she/ will definitely know what it means.”

He pulled his hands away, trying to force the blush from his cheeks. “I cannot believe you sometimes.”

“Because you love me,” he teases him.

He thinks about the red head exchange student with the red hair. “Oh you mean Nat? Yeah been there done that. She already has someone. Told me flat out no when I asked her. Don’t you remember…wait I think you were out with a cold or something that week. Yeah asked her out Friday and let me tell you asking a girl out is hard, when you’re shorter than her even more so. Yeah did not end well.

Clint takes a chug of his soda and burps, “uh excuse me? Does that make it better? Come on Bruce at least it wasn’t sex noises that time.”

Bruce couldn’t help the small, pleased smirk that crossed his lips, though he covered it by munching into his half-forgotten apple. He didn’t want to seem jealous, but when Clint went after other people it always made him feel…well, upset. He didn’t really have the right to be possessive, but he didn’t like it when Clint went after girls and ignored him. “Well, hey, at least she didn’t, like, slap you.”

And then Bruce rolled his eyes, waving a hand at Clint. “Ew, Clint, you’re such a kid. I think I preferred the sex noises.” And then he immediately regretted what he said, blushed bright red, and rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Nevermind.”

He looks up at him, “who said I got slapped? It was one punch,” he sighs happily, “she really is a good fighter.”

Clint grins at the last statement Bruce said, “oh are you getting horny for your soulmate again. You asked for it,” he begins to make moaning noises and rocks the table and copies the exact scene from Harry met Sally before stopping and sipping his drink. “Blow your mind Bruce,” he smirks not caring that other people are staring at them.

"I hate you, I absolutely /loathe/ you, Clint Francis Barton," Bruce grumbles, face hidden completely in his hands now, the heat in his face burning like a furnace as he gets the uncomfortable feeling that his friend is trying to give him, as Clint would say, an uncomfortable hard-on. They’re in the lunch room. People are looking. Bruce is mortified and he’s pretty sure he’s going to end up killing Clint. "I swear to god, you are some sort of horrible punishment sometimes; you are insatiably horny and you are a punishment."

“Bruce I was just…” he faces crumbles and he crosses his arms, “Bruce who cares what the people think it’s not that big a deal. I was just trying to make you feel better cause you looked sad,” he says playing with his coke can.

He rubs the back of his head feeling guilty and is thinking to himself how he can make it up to Bruce. He was just trying to take his mind off it and joke around. He’s Clint he always jokes around like this. He sighs frowning at his mistake before he catches the end of what Bruce said, “wait I’m a punishment,” he asks angry, “how am I a punishment? I fucked up once…ok maybe a few times but I’m sorry ok geez sensitive.”

Bruce peeks out from behind his hands, distracted from his embarrassment by the anger on Clint’s face. His eyes widen and he jerks his hands down, frowning, discomfort immediately forgotten. “Clint, I didn’t mean—well, I mean, that was terrible and you’re awful, but you know I don’t mean it like that. You’re a little terror but you’re /my/ little terror. Yeah?”

Bruce’s embarrassment is erased by guilt and he slouches in his seat. “I am over-sensitive, I’m sorry Clint. That was mean of me.”

Clint sighs, “naw I was being an asshole and I knew it. Seriously I do shit like that to get a reaction or something out of you,” he rubs the back of his head, “took it too far this time…” Clint taps him on the leg under the table, “sit up straight freckles. I hate when you slouch over like that man. Fucking tallest guy in the class slouching,” he shakes his head.

The bell rings and Clint sighs before glaring at someone moving in the cafeteria then he looks at Bruce. “That’s why you skipped today isn’t it? When did that Talbot fucker get back? He’s not your soulmate is he? I’ll tear his ass up if he is.”

He watches him exit the cafeteria and glares at Talbot, “you have any other classes with him?”

Bruce straightens up, and then sighs when the bell rings, going to put his dingy lunch box back in his bag and toss it around his shoulders once more. When he looked back to Clint, he’d gone from apologetic to angry, and for a moment Bruce was confused.  
And then he shrugged and ducked his head, frowning. “I got him in my last class of the day, but it’s fine; he probably won’t mess with me for at least a few days.” He hoped, at least. “And, god, if /he/ was my soulmate I’d just give up on everything. My soulmates way better than /that/ ass.” Bruce looked over to Clint, smiling softly at his protective little friend. “I’ll be fine, though; you got my back.”

“Yeah yeah…maybe I should skip last period not like I need to go anyway…for your safety,” he said shrugging.

He smirks over at Bruce as he throws his bag and lunch away. “Oh yeah if they’re so great why won’t you tell me who it is or are…dude did you get two and that’s what you’re freaking out about,” he teased nudging Bruce in the arm.

"You gonna be my little body guard?" Bruce teased as he walked beside Clint towards his next class, before he rolled his eyes. "No, I only got one, and I’m sure that’s enough for me; this one will probably be a huge, annoying handful." He rolled his eyes, glancing at Clint, before looking up and away, smiling. "Just like you."

“I’ll be your body guard any day against that asshole…hey I’m not an annoying handful I’m just high maintenance in the weirdest way…yeah that makes sense right,” he grins as he walks with Bruce to his class.

Clint pauses and stares at Bruce, “holy shit I figured it out,” he pauses, “you know who your soulmate is that’s why you’re freaking out so much. So it has to be someone at school. Oh yeah I’m going to make a fake assembly and give the shovel talk to all the students here and I need a horse…uh later Bruce lots of planning to do,” he smiles waving.

"Why would you need a horse…?" But before he can even process that, Bruce is shaking his head and waving Clint away, exasperated and slightly fond. "Shut up and let me deal with my soulmate on my own Clint," he sighs, before smiling tiredly at his friend and waving him off, heading into his class. "Get to class before your late, planner boy!"

“Pssh me late never,” he shouts back as the minute warning bell rings, “shit,” he shouts as he begins running.

Bruce watches his little cherub sprint off with a fond smile on his face, before heading to sit down and sighing, staring ahead and ignoring everyone else around him in the class. Today was turning into a long day.

The bell rings for the last class before the end of the school day. Talbot bumps into Bruce, “whoa didn’t see you there Banner. Where’s you’re pet? You send him away,” he asks threatening him.

Bruce shrinks back instinctively, shoulders slouched and eyes on the ground. “Clint’s not my pet; he’s my friend,” he mumbles, gripping his arms around his chest, tight and defensive.

“Oh is that so,” he asks pushing him into the desk, “he follows you like a lost puppy sounds a lot like a pet to me. Hell I don’t know why he follows you unless…” he sneers, “do you let him touch you. I bet so cause no one else will, will they Banner,” he laughs at him before heading to his seat to sit down.

The teacher had just came in was starting the lesson, “Mr. Banner please take a seat,” said the teacher as they got out their marker. Some of the students chuckled.

Bruce’s face burned, and he could feel the anger in him brim up towards its boiling point, ready to steam from his ears. How /dare/ he talk about Clint like that, talk like that at all? Who the hell was he? But Bruce couldn’t let his anger get the best of him; last time he did he ended up with a broken nose, and he didn’t want to deal with that now. So he swallowed down his pride, slumped his shoulders, and slunk over to his seat, ignoring the chuckles and smirks from all around him.

Talbot sits right behind Bruce and annoys him throughout the class. The bell rings for the end of the day and Talboy follows Bruce.

“Hey Banner where you going,” he asks running after him. Before Talbot gets outside an arrow is shot in front of his foot.

“One more step Talbot and I’ll shoot one right through your dick,” yells Clint as he notches and aims another arrow at him chuckles, "even if it is as small as a tooth pick."

Bruce had been slowly but surely simmering on his rage throughout the class, trying his best to stay Zen and avoid a fight. That’s why he’d fled so fast when school got out; he didn’t want a fight.  
But when Talbot chased him down he’d been ready to knock his head off; not enough profit in running. But when he turned all he saw was Talbot blinking in surprise down at an arrow near his foot and Clint standing with bow in hand not too far off. His shoulders slumped and he sighed, relieved to see his little cherub of a body guard.

Talbot tries to move and Clint let’s the arrow fly, “I warned you Talbot,” yelled Clint.

The arrow had passed right through his pants very close to where his dick was. He pauses and pisses his pants before running back to the school.

Clint puts the bow away and walks over to Bruce, “you can’t do anything right can you giant,” he teases.

Bruce looks down at Clint with wide eyes, before breaking out into a grin. “Clint, you’re a little devil, and you terrify me,” he said teasingly, reaching out to ruffle Clint’s hair before stopping, pulling his hand back. “Sorry, I forgot; don’t mess up the do.” He chuckled, shaking his head, and looked after where Talbot had run off. “He won’t be calling you my pet again anytime soon, I’m assuming.”

Clint looks surprised when Bruce stops rubbing his head and flushes, “it’s ok if you ruffle the hair just not all the time,” he grins fixing it back.

He walks with him and looks confused, “pet? He called me your pet,” he said angry, “I should beat the shit out of him for that. It’s cause I’m short isn’t it,” he pouts crossing his arms and mumbling to himself.

Bruce tosses an arm around Clint’s shoulders, smirking mischievously down at him. “Naw, I’m pretty sure it’s because he thinks you’re just as cute as a puppy. A guard puppy. You should be honored, Clint. All the ladies love puppies.”

He pouts getting angry, “I’m not a dog or puppy. That makes people think I’m cute and when you’re cute you’re little or a baby gah,” he says frustrated, “ I don’t want to be cute,” he pouts.

"What’s wrong with being cute?" Bruce frowned slightly, confused. "I mean, you /are/ cute Clint, it’s not a /bad/ thing." Bruce paused, realizing what he said, and changed courses quickly, feeling his face blush again. "Well, I mean, /other/ people say you’re cute; like, what would you rather be then cute?"

Clint sighs, “cute is when your five years old wearing a macaroni necklace. I want to be handsome or rugged something manly,” he says pouting before he backtracks, “wait you think I’m cute?”

Bruce scrunches up his blushing face, rubbing the back of his neck as he slouches. “Well, I mean—well, yeah, but—you’re—well, yeah, okay, but /everyone/ thinks you’re cute so it’s not…” He blew out an embarrassed breath of air, slightly frustrated with himself.

Clint looks at him surprised, “Bruce relax. I’m not going to kill ya or anything,” he shakes his head, “man you are acting weird today. Do you think it’s because of your Name?”

Bruce swallows, letting out a nervous breath, and absently rubs at the spot on his chest beneath his shirt. “Yeah…Something like that,” he mumbles, frowning. “I guess it’s been…A bit of a long day, yah know?”

“Yeah especially if it’s someone at school,” he sighs and forces Bruce to stand straight, “Don’t hunch giant. I’ll try not to bother you about it…well not at much. Still going to do the assembly and get a horse,” he smirks.

Bruce straightened, before looking at Clint with confused eyes. “Why a horse, Clint? What, in all the wild, crazy things you might want to do, would you do with a horse?” He would probably regret asking, or get a non-committal answer, so Bruce just sighed, looking at Clint with a raised brow.

Clint grins, “cause I’ll ride in on the horse and give a speech about not messing with you like they did in Brave heart. War paint and all Bruce,” he chuckles.

“Hey Bruce can you do one thing for me? I bet you can’t do it for a week but can you just stand straight and sit up straight? You’re tall why do you hunch over like that man?”

Bruce rolled his eyes. Of /course/ it was going to be a Braveheart speech, why didn’t he guess that first? And then Bruce frowned,slouching down at Clint’s comment before straightening back up forcefully. “Because I don’t like being tall,” Bruce replied, frowning and hugging his sides. “People notice you more that way. It sucks. If I could switch heights with you, I would Clint.”

“You hate being tall? Dude you can reach the top shelves without having to get a stepping stool I’m jealous. Come on Bruce be proud and who cares if people notice you so what strut your stuff man. Come on what if your soulmate is a short guy like me how will they see you if you don’t stand tall,” he asks.

“They can go oh that tall guy over there yeah he’s the one. Geez I might have lost sight of him if I didn’t see the top of his head.”

Clint sighs and tries to figure out an idea. “Yeah you are getting a confidence booster this weekend. I’ll help fix you up cause you want to look nice when you find your soulmate the first time right?”

"I guess you’re right," Bruce mumbled, giving Clint a sideways glance. It was almost like he knew, like somewhere in that blond head of his he’d already figured it out and was just torturing Bruce. Ugh.

“And if you really wanna fix me up, I guess you can; I don’t mind,” he appeased Clint with a shrug, trying not to slouch, though it was difficult.

Clint grins and pats him on the back to straighten Bruce out, “aw Bruce it ain’t going to be that bad promise. I won’t change anything you don’t want me to cause I doubt you want a Mohawk,” he laughs.

He grins, “I’m going to sex you up so good your soulmate will pounce on you when they see you.”

Bruce glanced up at the sky, sighing. “If only,” he grumbled, before shaking his head. 

“Alright, we’re sexing me up; how and when do you want to have this makeover, Clint, because we’re not doing it at my place, for sure.” He shuddered at the thought of his father knowing he had a soulmate. How he’d react.

Clint punches him in the arm lightly, “Bruce confidence and no duh we’re not doing it at your dad’s. We’re going to do it at the salon where my foster mom works,” he grins.

Bruce blew out a breath, before nodding, crossing his arms over his chest. “Alright. Fine. Confidence. I can do that.” And then he looked to Clint. “If I don’t look amazing by the time we’re done I want my money back. Like, my life money back, man.” He elbowed Clint lightly, smiling.

Clint rolls his eyes and elbows him back, “yeah yeah sure freckles. Ok so go to the Salon and be there at nine or ten tomorrow morning. Tell your dad you’re tutoring me again or something stupid. I’ll see you later giant,” he teases turning to go down a different street to his house.

Bruce chuckled softly, waving as Clint went, before tugging his book bag further down his shoulders and heaving a sigh, heading towards his house with a feeling of dread. If his dad was at least semi-sober today…Then he’d probably be able to leave tomorrow without any incident. But it was more likely he’d have to sneak out…

Bruce’s father is sitting on the couch nursing a beer when he hears the door open.

“You’re late…”

Clint walks back to his house and sighs, “Ma I’m home. Hey is it ok if Bruce comes into the shop tomorrow? He got his Name and wants to look perfect when he meets his soulmate for the first time.”

Bruce goes rigid for a moment, before he swallows and walks inside, closing the door and keeping his head ducked, slouching. “Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”  
  
“That’s great!” calls Maria, before she peeks her head out of the kitchen. “So, who’s the lucky soulmate he’s getting all dolled up for? Somebody from school?”

He takes a swig of his beer and grimaces, “get out of my sight you piece of shit. Fucking never listen to a word I say.” His dad stands up wobbling back and forth heading to Bruce.

Clint shrugs his shoulders, “I think so. He won’t tell me the name though being all woe is me. He just needs a confidence booster and bam instant soulmate,” he grins before pouting, “Soulmate better be nice to him though or I’ll beat the shit out of them…” he winces at what he said, “I mean I’ll beat the crap out of them sorry Ma.”

Bruce flinches, taking a deep breath, before he mumbles a quick ‘yes sir’, backing up to try and head towards his room. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, trembling and slouching even further. “Sorry, sorry, I’m going.”

“I always thought you two would be soulmates,” she replied, smirking and waggling her eyebrows towards Clint. “But, alas, you’ll just be his best friend/body guard for life, hm?” And then she pointed a finger at him, trying to look serious. “And watch your language, mister,” she said, before she chuckled and rolled her eyes. “And, you’re right—that boy just needs some confidence, and he’ll be way better off.”

His dad grabs him by the scruff of his shirt and punches him a few times before throwing him by the stairs, “next time you’ll listen dumbass.”

Clint raises an eyebrow, “Ma no way would we be soulmates. Bruce is smart and…stuff he needs a smart person as his soulmate,” he jumps on the counter and sits on it, “maybe I’ll be his body guard til I know his soulmate isn’t a douchebag. Cause we’ll still be friends and stuff. Getting a soulmate doesn’t mean you get rid of your friends right Ma?”

Bruce goes down in silence, huffing painfully and huddling in on himself for a moment, before he scrambles to his feet, glasses broken and face bruised, and bolts up the stairs, trembling as he heads into his room. Stupid, he was so stupid; he should’ve known his dad wouldn’t be sober. Should’ve known.

“You know soulmates don’t have to match intellectually; it’s all about heart, baby.” And then she frowns, looking thoughtful. “And, well, of course you guys’ll still be friends. But he probably won’t be around as much as he is now; he’ll focus on his soulmate more than you. So, you know, you might feel a bit left out for a while.”

His father mumbles heading to his room before passing out for the night.

Clint pouts, “I don’t wanna feel left out and I have to find out if his soulmate is good enough for him. Ma what if his soulmate is mean or doesn’t treat him right and stuff? He’ll get hurt more and he already hates being tall and stuff and it would be really easy to hurt him so that’s why he has to get confidence. So he can say no to his soulmate if he needs to and not feel trapped to be with them.”

Bruce looks into the mirror on his door, wincing at the sight of the bruises now blooming on his face, and he lets out a soft sigh, before tugging down the collar of his shirt to see the Name printed across his skin. At least that can make him smile for now.

His mother looks thoughtful, before she sighs. “Hun, if you’re really worried, then you just have to stick by him real close like, if you wanna make sure he doesn’t get hurt. But soulmates aren’t made to hurt each other, baby. That only happens when one of the soulmates is broken.”

Clint frowns, “well how do you know if they’re broken? How can you be broken? Bruce might think he’s broken mom if he heard that,” he sighs and shakes his head.

“Ma Bruce is going to come to the shop around nine or ten tomorrow to get his makeover. I think he looks fine he way he is but I want him to feel good about himself. You think it will help?”

Bruce went over to his bed, feeling weary and bone-tired, and flopped on top of the pristine sheets, wiping away tears from his eyes with the pillow case. Tomorrow would be better. Someday would be better than this.

Clint’s mother sighed, shaking her head. “Hun, that boy isn’t broken like I mean—anyone who’d wanna hurt their soulmate is broken to the core. And…” She shrugged. “Dressing him up might make him feel more confident…Or, he could think you don’t like how he looks, and feel bad. It’s a slippery thing. But I’ll help you two, if you’d like; I don’t mind.”

He pouts, “then I’ll tell him he looks fine the way he is and the makeover will only improve it,” he grins. He gives his mom a kiss, “thanks for helping Ma.”


	3. The Makeover

The next day Clint is outside the salon waiting for Bruce and checking his watch.

Bruce snuck from the house early in the morning, long before his dad awoke from his binging slumber, and slumped down the road, wearing his now-broken glasses a too-loose purple hoodie, the hood pulled up to hide the still fresh bruises. He hardly glanced up when he headed towards the salon; just glanced beneath the hood and spotted Clint, slouching and giving a small wave.

Clint spots Bruce and frowns, “hey man stand up…the fuck happened to your face,” he says worried as he looks around for the culprit and pushes him inside the salon.

“Bruce who did this to you?”

Bruce shrugs, head drooped. “Nobody. I…Fell,” he lies lamely, frowning. “Hit my head. No big deal.” He rubs absently at his busted lip, not looking at Clint.

Clint rolls his eyes, “well that fall really did a number on your face,” he sighs letting it slide since he won’t get anything out of Bruce. “Come on let’s get you sexed up,” he says trying to cheer him up.

“Take the hoodie off Ma has seen my share of cuts and bruise these won’t be any different,” he leans down an whispers in his ear, “you’re better off telling her you got in a fight on the way here she’ll believe that.” He smiles and sees his Ma and waves, “hey Ma this is Bruce.”

Bruce nodded, tugging off his hoodie quietly and folding it over his arm, his green t-shirt hardly covering the other array of bruises up his arms. He didn’t say anything about them, of course, and smiled softly when he saw Clint’s mother.

“Ma’am.”

“Heya, Bruce,” she greeted as she came towards them, before her eyes narrowed to slits as she looked him over. “Well, don’t you just look like a pretty sight. What happened?” At Bruce’s mumbled ‘a fight’, she shook her head, not buying it, but moved on quickly, seeing the look of strain on Bruce’s face. “Well, we can cover that right up, yeah? Make you look good as new.”

“Yeah Ma’s the best at cover up make up. Don’t knock it til you try it had a huge zit and three others on my chin for picture day. You could barely see it when she got done,” he grins.

“So Bruce what would you like to do for your makeover? I mean you look fine now except for the bruises but what style do ya want for your hair? I can cut your hair and Ma can do the cover up. Unless you want to dye your hair blue then that’s her all the way.”

Bruce reached up, patting his hair absently, and then shrugged. “I’m…not sure. I’ve never really done anything with it?” He glanced from Clint, and then to his mother. She smiled, nodding to him to go on, and he looked over at Clint once more. “What’d’ya think I’d look good with? I mean, you’re better with this stuff than me, Clint.”

“Hmm I’d think you look better bald,” he says in a serious voice before cracking up, “oh man Bruce you should have seen your face. Ok serious time…hmm you’re fluffy hair is good as is maybe a trim and dye to bring out a better shine,” he shrugs his shoulders.

“Glasses need to go though,” he puts his hands up, “you don’t need contacts those are just broken and a thinner looking pair would bring out your freckles and face more and wouldn’t cover your eyes as much,” he says getting closer to Bruce’s face looking at his eyebrows by standing on his tip toes.

“Pluck those stray hair, frame the face and you should be good to go. You do have a nice set of clothes at home right? Maybe a bright green or light blue to bring out your eyes?”

Bruce’s face turned pink the closer Clint came, but he just looked to the side, quietly listening, before he tugged at the sleeve of his shirt. “I, uh, have a few nice shirts, I think,” he mumbled, wondering if he had one somewhere in the back of his closet. He might still have a few clean church shirts somewhere. And then he took his glasses off, handing them to Clint. “Er, I guess I could get a new pair…”

Clint takes his glasses and grins, “contacts or glasses your soulmate is going to love your eyes. Glasses for now though, you’ve never put contacts in before have you?”

He puts the broken glasses in Bruce’s pocket and leads Bruce to one of the hairdresser seats and makes him sit down before putting a sheet around his neck.

“Gonna wash and cut your hair giant,” he teases.

Bruce followed after Clint, shrugging. “Dad always bought me glasses,” he replied, before he winced.

Then he nodded, sitting down. “Just, ah, don’t shave me bald, alright, short stack? I like my curls.” He chuckled softly.

Clint chuckles, “you’re dad has no taste then and of course I’m not going to shave you bald. What else would your soulmate grab on like this,” he smirks tugging Bruce’s hair. He chuckles and begins to wash Bruce’s hair out.

“Freckles you have a lot of curls man. Seriously how long has it been since you got a haircut. I’m cutting split ends like crazy here,” he says trimming his hair.

Bruce rolled his eyes, before closing them and letting Clint do his thing. “I haven’t had the money for a haircut; it’s not like I can just cut it myself," he shrugs, before he blinks his eyes open and looks at Clint curiously. “Why would my soulmate pull my hair?”

Clint clucks at him, “oh Brucey boy you need to come in and get a trim at least every two months.” Clint flushes a little as he trims Bruce’s hair, “Well you see some people like it when their hair is pulled or tugged when they are making out or having sex so keeping your hair a little bit long is good. Your soulmate will have something to pull on to get your attention.”

He finishes the final touches on trimming his hair before he starts to make the dye, “bet you haven’t ever dyed your hair before.”

Bruce’s eyes fluttered wide, and he blushed, before he cleared his throat. “Oh.” He wondered if Clint was one of the people who liked that, and then he swallowed. “Uh, no. Like I said, I don’t really…do this sorta thing. I just kinda…let it go how it wants.”

“Yeah figured as much,” he says as he rips his aluminum in place, “ok so it might sting a bit but that’s ok you just have to keep it in for thirty minutes at least,” he gives the mixture one final mix, “can you do that for me?”

"Sit and do nothing? I can do that, Clint, I’m the one who actually sits through class, aren’t I?" He smirks, looking to his friend and chuckling. "You’re the cherub with trouble sitting still, not me."

He smirks, “ you know just for that I should dye your hair bright green,” he says as he begins to piece and dye Bruce’s hair. “So when are you going to talk to your soulmate? Monday I hope.”

He moves to the back of Bruce head and begins to dye his hair there and wrap it in aluminum.

Bruce smiles fondly, before he furrows his brow guiltily, glad Clint isn’t looking at him. “I’m not sure…maybe. Maybe after all of this is done.” He says, noncommittally, biting his lip nervously.

“You mean right after we’ve sexed you up? Crap you know where to find your soulmate don’t you,” he says grinning before he whines, “why don’t you ever let me see it? If you have the name already, why can’t you tell me whose is it? I thought we were best friends. Bruce come on man please," he teases as he finishes dying the last bit of his hair.

“Go sit under the hairdryer.”

Bruce stood up, glancing over to Clint, scrunching up his face. “You’ll know at some point. Why so curious? What, are you worried?” He tried to tease, heading for the hair-dryers and rubbing absently at his chest. When he sat down, he chuckled softly.  
“My ma used to get her hair curled like this,” he mumbled absently, before his smile slipped and he rested his hands primly in his lap.

Clint looks away and pouts, “no…maybe a little. Bruce they’re going to take you away and we won’t get to hang out as much. It’s not going to be fair.”

Clint smiles and sits next to him in one of the unused hairdryers, “she got her hair curled? Bruce where did you get your curls then?”

"Ma had curls, but she always wanted ‘em /big/ and /bouncy/," Bruce replied, smiling once more. "Always said curls were the best kind of hair, and she would always make sure she brushed my curls big and bushy." He chuckled, before he glanced over at Clint, hands trembling slightly in his lap, “and no one would ever make me leave you alone, Clint. No one. You’re my best friend. Hear me?”

“Oh so that’s why you had an afro going on in second grade,” he chuckles checking Bruce’s hair before putting the aluminum back over it, “it’s working good.”

Clint grins and slaps him on the back, “you’re my best friend too buddy.”

Clint looks at Bruce nervously, “so what are you expecting your soulmate to be? Ma said they don't have to be super smart like you but don't you want someone like that?”

"Hey, my afro was adorable," he defended, before he turned more serious.

“I just want someone to love me,” Bruce said instantly, before paling slightly. “I mean, that’s what a soulmates supposed to do, right? I don’t…I don’t care about smarts, not really. I just want someone to like me, you know?” He looked at Clint with wide eyes. “I mean, I don’t need someone to know how to clone DNA for me to like them: I mean, you’re my best friend and you’re a dunce.” His face pulled into a grin, and he chuckled.

“Dude your afro was huge and only adorable to your mom,” he laughs.

Clint grimaces and looks at him, “well I guess so. I don’t know Ma was talking about broken soulmates last night. They’re the ones who get soulmates but they’re evil, mean whatever you want to call it. I don’t want that to happen to you so that’s why I want to know who they are,” he shakes his head and sighs.

“Hey I am not a dunce…you’re just a genius big difference,” he checks Bruce’s hair.

“Alright go back in the chair the dye is set. I hope you like purple,” he teases.

"My mom thought everything was cute," Bruce replied, smiling softly, before he frowned. "And…yeah, I know what a broken soulmate is. They’re horrible." His mind wandered to his father, and he shuddered, his mothers scared face flashing, before he pushed the thoughts away. 

“I…I don’t have a soulmate like that. I know that much. You don’t have to worry so much; I’m a genius, remember," he chuckled, heading for the chair. “And you /know/ I love purple, thanks so much,” he teased back.

“You want some hot pink in your hair…hey how do you know your soulmate won’t hurt you,” he asked as he got the foil out from his hair carefully trying not to snag on the curls.

“Have you spent time with them already and not told me?”

"I just…" Bruce blew out a slightly frustrated breath. "I just know, okay? I’ll be okay. I’m tough, too, I can take a few hits." He meant it figuratively, but the day before was fresh on his mind, and he wrinkled his nose once he said it. "Or…whatever."

Clint furrows his brows as he bends Bruce’s head back to get the excess dye out, “Bruce you don’t deserve to be hit. If your soulmate does that to you I’ll kick their ass. You do not put up with that shit understand me,” he says frustrated.

“Seriously only a phone call away. I’ll storm over there and shoot their ass with my bow and arrow like I did Talbot the other day,” he grins.

Bruce looked up at him, blinking wide eyes, before he looked quickly away. “My soulmate wouldn’t do that,” is all he murmured, reaching up to absently touch the bruises on his face.

“Thank you, Clint,” he mumbled, touching his own busted lip. “But you can’t always shoot away my problems.” He felt very heavy, suddenly, weighed by the knowledge of his soulmate, the fear of the reveal, and the idea of Clint saving him from his father. It wouldn’t happen, of course, but he’d never told Clint /just/ how horrible his father was, and sometimes he wondered…

Clint shrugs her shoulders as he takes the dryer out and drys Bruce’s hair, “naw but I can try can’t I,” he grins.

“Hey no looking freckles, not until we get you a nice set of glasses and Ma gets your face set,” he smiles, “Ma he’s ready for his touch up. Bruce plucking hurts more than you think get ready to woman up,” he pats him on the back and sends him to his mom as he cleans up the area.

Bruce goes where he’s told, a bit quieter than before, and as Clint’s mother sets to work he winces a bit but stays silent. Plucking is definitely not pleasant, but it’s definitely not terrible, and she chats about nothing and everything while she works, so Bruce doesn’t have to say a word.

Once Clint is done cleaning up he goes to look over at Bruce and gasps, “nice Bruce you’re looking nice. Come on let’s get you a cheap pair of glasses from the convenience store until you can replace your old ones,” he smirks grabbing his hand and pulling him to the store.

“Dude be prepared to be whistled at,” he grins before looking at him seriously, “don’t you dare hunch over.”

Bruce blushes, feeling the urge to shrink down even as Clint tells him to stand up, and he nods nervously, still unsure of how he looked. But Clint said he looked nice, so maybe he did. Maybe it was better? He didn’t know, he just followed after Clint, trying hard not to shrink in on himself. “It’s hard, okay, but I’m trying. It’s like everyone’s looking at me.” He frowned slightly. “I’m not a fan of that.”

Clint looks back at grins, “yeah well it’s a good thing promise one guy is checking your ass out,” he teases.

“Oh you are so going to turn your soulmate’s head around Bruce and you’re not even in awesome clothes yet either. Then again they might not want you in clothes for long,” he teases nudging him as they enter the store.

Clint heads to the back and looks at the glasses selection, “hey what’s the closest one to your prescription this 20 and 35 thing is confusing.”

Clint looks around the store and grins, “hey Bruce you feeling ok? That girl behind me is fidgeting meaning one thing giant.”

The girl looks at Bruce before faking to look at a product in the store.

Bruce’s face flushes when he glances towards the girl, and he busies himself glancing over the prescriptions, before pointing out his own. “There, uh, that one.” He completely ignores what Clint was saying before, feeling nervous and unused to attention. “Which one’ll look best?” He asks, pointing at the different pairs of glasses.

Clint grins, “aw is Brucey getting shy and you’re blushing,” he teases as he looks at the glasses and pulls them from Bruce’s hand. “No Bruce you want thin not clunky,” he sighs as he begins to look for a nice pair of glasses for Bruce.

The girl glances at Bruce again and walks a step toward him and then back before going towards him nervous, “Um hi what’s your name?”

Clint keeps looking at the glasses and nudges Bruce to say something.

Bruce watches Clint look around for glasses, before glancing up in surprise at being addressed. “Uh, I’m, um, Bruce,” he stammers, before blinking wide eyes at her. And then he remembers there’s such a thing as manners, and sticks out his hand. “And you are?”

“Betty,” she blushes, “um I think…I think you’re my soulmate? I only have a few letters but yeah,” she stammers a little nervous.

Clint gasps and looks at Bruce then begins to scrutinize Betty to make sure she is ok for Bruce.

Bruce’s eyes goes even wider, and he opens his mouth to speak, feeling taken aback. How did he reply to that? The girl was pretty, he wouldn’t lie, and she seemed very sweet, but Bruce knew his soulmate’s name, and he was standing only a few feet away. “I…” He glanced over towards Clint, as if asking for help, before looking back to Betty. “I, oh, I don’t think—see, my Name—I got it and it’s not—” He fumbles, blushes, and slouches. “Sorry, sorry, I have the whole Name, and it’s not Betty, sorry, sorry.”

“Oh,” she frowns blushing, “I’m sorry mine just begins with ‘B’ so far and well you look cute so I was hoping,” she fidgets, “god this is awkward I’m so sorry.”

Clint looks over at Betty, “it’s ok Betty is it. My friend just grew into his hotness and he’s such a nice little dweeb he freaks out over a beautiful lady like yourself. Oh my name is Clint no ‘B’ in that name sorry.”

Betty chuckles, “it’s ok um thank you and I’m sorry bye,” she says walking away from Bruce and Clint. Clint has a smug look on his face and is grinning at Bruce.

“One down twenty five more letters to go,” he grins as he hands Bruce a thin pair of glasses. “Try those on Mr. Sexy but don’t look in the mirror just say if they feel comfortable on your face,” he teases.

Bruce feels bad for letting such a pretty girl down…But, of course, Clint’s there, smiling at him and holding out a new pair of glasses, calling him nice things and generally being himself, so Bruce can’t regret not having her for a soulmate. He’s pretty sure he’s way too happy with this one already.

“Fine, fine,” he mumbles, rolling his eyes and blushing as he puts on the glasses. “I’m sure I look terrible and you’re just laughing because your mom painted me like a clown. My hair’s probably actually green, isn’t it?” He teased, ringing his hands together nervously. “Are these good?” He asks softly.

“Bruce weren’t you listening earlier I gave you purple hair not green and yeah you look like a clown that’s why that girl though you were hot. She was digging the clown look,” he chuckles before he looks at Bruce and flushes a little.

“Y-yeah those glasses are going to work. Now let’s let you look at the disaster that is your face and head to the Salon,” he teases as they pay for the glasses.

“Oh I bet Ma has some clothes from Barnes or Steve. They were my other fosters brothers before they left for school. Do you remember them?”

Bruce smiles bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck, before he straightens out, trying to remember: /don’t slouch/.

He nods. “Of course I remember them; Steve was always getting into fights with the bullies around town, I saw him in the dumpster at least once a week.” Bruce chuckled good naturedly as they headed for the salon. “And Barnes was the one always coming to save him, right? Yeah, those two were nice.” He paused, curious. “Did they ever end up with eachothers Names? I could’a sworn they were ‘mates.”

Clint looks around as they enter the Salon. “Ok you can’t tell them I told you but Steve got Bucky’s name when he was still a shrimp and shorter than me before he grew into a giant like you,” he huffs, “Anyway he felt like crap the whole time and was changing for Bucky until Bucky caught on and figured it out. So yeah they are definitely ‘mates’. Just don’t ever get involved fighting them you will always lose trust me on this Bruce,” he chuckles.

He leads Bruce to the back of the store and smiles, “here that’s Steve’s shirt he loved blue go put it on and you can keep your pants on for now,” he says handing him the shirt not realizing what he said. “Oh yeah Bruce when you come out you gotta strut it promise.”

Bruce takes the shirt, face red. “Keep my pants on ‘for now’, huh?” He teases, chuckling nervously, before he glances down at the shirt in his hands. “Can I look at myself once I ‘strut it out’? Or will it forever be a mystery?”

Clint blushes, “oh yeah haha Bruce and yeah you can look in the mirror once you are done strutting just remember not to slouch.”

Clint leaves Bruce and heads out to the Salon and waits for him to come out, “you ok in there Bruce?”

Bruce goes in, carefully slipping on the shirt and tugging at it nervously. This was where he decided. This was where he either went out and told Clint, or went out and slouched, and didn’t tell Clint. And, god, did he want to tell him. But he was…Scared. Nervous. /Broken soulmates./ His father had been one, had killed his other half. What if Bruce was like that? What if he…hurt Clint?

The idea was revolting to him, and he pushed it away. He tugged once more on the shirt, swallowed, and called out to Clint. “I’m fine…I’m coming.” And he came out, shoulders back and head held higher than it had been in quite some time, and he looked over to where Clint waited, raising one brow. “Well…how does it look?”

Clint catches a glance at Bruce and grins before he whistles at him, “oh yeah they won’t able to resist you. Now strut it out and look in the mirror Bruce,” he smiles. Bruce actually looked hot and why did that make Clint feel weird? Maybe he was just happy for his friend finally having some confidence. He shakes his head and watches Bruce strut around the Salon.

Clint watches as Bruce walks straight and smiles before getting jealous and mumbles, “his soulmate better be worth it.” He clears his voice, “ hey Bruce give me a little spin for me,” he teases.

Bruce doesn’t know if he can actually /strut/, but his long legs make up for it, and he heads towards the mirror, adjusting his glasses carefully and taking a deep breath. “I must be the hottest clown ever,” he says with a chuckle, before he looks in the mirror and his face goes slack with surprise. He…

The bruises were gone, but not just the newest one’s; the dark circles, too, those sleepless nights, gone. And Clint was right about the blue; his eyes seemed wider, warmer, more inviting. His hair shined and curled, and the glasses he wore made him look sharper, less meek. He looked…Good. He hardly heard what Clint was saying, just stared in the mirror.

“Oh, wow. I…” He shook his head. “I don’t look tired anymore.”

Clint watches Bruce strut and smiles before flushing a bit. Were Bruce’s legs always that long? He seemed bigger and not just in height. He look comfortable in his own skin for once. Clint was happy for him and smiles catching the shock in Bruce’s face.

Did Brue honestly think he wasn’t hot before? Well it is Bruce but still his Bruce couldn’t think he was terrible to look at…wait a second his Bruce. No it’s not him. Bruce already has a soulmate it’s probably not a midget who doesn’t even have whiskers or chest hair yet. This sucks, finding out your friend is hot and you want to date them but they already have someone sucks. Clint sighs before putting on his resting face and smiling.

Clint laughs, “of course that’s what you would notice first. Bruce you look hot come on say it in the mirror. You are one hot piece of ass say it right now.”

Bruce’s smile lit up like the sun, and he looked into the mirror, pleased as pie. “I am one hot piece of ass,” he said, before laughing and shaking his head. He ran a hand through his hair carefully, turning his face left and right, before glancing over towards Clint, grinning. “I…I didn’t even know I could look like this. Clint! Li’l cherub! Look, I don’t look like some dead-eyed nerd!” He was laughing again, and strode towards his friend, grinning.

Clint grins watching Bruce beam, “dude you never looked like a dead-eyed nerd you just looked like a fluffy nerd plain and simple.”

Clint looks at Bruce, “hey don’t call me a cherub I am definitely not a little baby angel. Yeah I looked it up last night so there,” he says sticking his tongue out at him. He frowns standing next to him, “Bruce you’re so much taller when you stand up. Not cool giant,” he teases.

“Hey you should go searching for your soulmate now. You’re all decked out and stuff just put on some good cologne and if you don’t find them today that’s ok. I’ll teach you have to put the foundation and stuff on cause guys can wear make-up,” he grins.

Bruce’s grin falters, and then falls completely; he’d almost forgotten, shocked by himself in the mirror, and he’d almost /forgotten/. He didn’t slump, but he felt the urge to as he looked down at his shorter best friend, always so kind, so supportive, and he wondered how he was going to say this. How he was going to explain.

“Clint, I…” He paused, furrowing his brow slightly. “I don’t need to look for my soulmate.”

Clint frowns seeing Bruce’s face fall, “Bruce it’s ok really make-up…” he stops talking and listens to Bruce before getting angry.

“What do you mean you don’t need to look for your soulmate? Bruce don’t just give up you gotta find them and at least tell them or ask them out once. Come on I’ll be your wing-man just point out where they are and I’ll back you up and make sure they’re not an asshole ok man,” he says patting Bruce on the back.

Bruce lowered his eyes to the ground, shuffling his feet, and shrunk, just a little bit, feeling his anxiety ratchet up one hundred percent, “Clint, no, you don’t…I don’t need to look because I know who they are. Where they are. I already found them.” He swallowed, opening his mouth to go on, but finding it dry, no sound coming out. It was years on insecurities trying their best to keep him silent, and they were succeeding.

Clint listens to Bruce and his eyes widen, “ok you found them that’s good Bruce. Just take some deep breaths and try to calm down. It can’t be as bad as you’re making it. I mean Bruce come on you’re a good guy anyone would be lucky to have you so breathe. You don’t have to find your soulmate if you don’t want to,” he sighs.

“Just try to relax and I won’t push it anymore ok. If you don’t want to talk to your soulmate that’s fine and…”

"Clint!" Bruce snaps in sudden anger, before sucking in a surprised breath and clamping his eyes shut, covering his face with his hands. "Oh god, oh god, I’m just like him, I can’t do this, I can’t do it, you’re my cherub, I can’t /do/ this, just /like/ him!" And he slumps down, trying to calm himself as he goes into panic mode, terrified of the truth, terrified of his father, of /being/ his father, a broken soulmate, he can’t be a broken soulmate, he /loves/ Clint!

Clint jumps a little at the raise in Bruce’s voice. He watches Bruce collapses onto himself and goes over to him slowly and sits next to him. “Bruce I don’t know who you think you are but you’re not him ok. You’re nice sweet Bruce who always gets A’s and hangs out with a shorty dunce at school. Alright so you’re not him.”

Clint chuckles, "now come on you don't want to ruin all the hard work that went into making you look extra hot. Trust me running make-up is not fun. Stay here I'll get you some tissues," he says standing up.

Bruce lifts his head, eyes wide and worried, and reaches out. “Clint, wait,” he murmurs, voice trembling. “It’s…I…My dad. I’m scared I’ll be like…My dad.” He looked at his friend, trying his best to stay composed. “I never told you…but that doesn’t matter…” He sucked in a deep breath, forcing down his panic. “I can’t be like him, Clint. I can’t.”

Clint turns and looks down at Bruce and doesn’t that feel weird looking down at the giant. “Ok so don’t be like him. I mean from the limited stuff you have told me and from your subtle hints. I know he’s a dick and you have no worries there Bruce. You’re too nice to be a dick. I mean you do get in your moods but I know you’re not as bad as you dad. Can’t be you’re more like your mom I think,” he says tapping his chin. “Yeah curls and smiling a lot sounds like you’re more like your mom buddy.”

He smiles and tries to cheer him up, “oh no it’s begun make-up today dresses tomorrow ooooo,” he says in a spooky ghost voice wiggling his fingers.

Bruce’s panic ebbs a bit when he thinks of his mother, her smiles, her careful demeanor, her love. And he gives a watery smile at Clint, chuckling softly at his joke. He straightens, just a little bit, looking up at his friend with eyes still a bit wet, and asks “Can we go to your place, Clint? I need to…this isn’t really the place to talk.”

“Uh sure let me just tell Ma I’m heading home with you,” he walks over to his mom and explains that he’s going to take Bruce to the house for a bit.

“She said it was fine and to make yourself at home,” he smiles as begins walking with him to his home. He’s a little nervous and doesn’t say much of anything on the walk home. It doesn’t take long to get there. His Ma had the house close to the Salon and he unlocks the house door and enters after Bruce and rubs his hand after he shuts the door.

“So uh what had to be said here and not there?”

Bruce is slouching again, unconsciously, and he tries to look at Clint, but he just can’t, so he stands in the front room of his friends house and stares at the floor. “You’ve been my best friend since the day we met, Clint,” Bruce says suddenly, without preamble. “You and me, we’ve always just been friends, though god knows why you like me. I know why I like you, of course, you’ve always been nice and horrible all at the same time, never treated me weird, always just like a friend. You…were there when my mom died. I’ve told you more than I’ve ever told anyone and I only ever lie to you when I have to you.” He took a breath, running a nervous hand through his lie. “And I didn’t mean to, but I lied to you, Clint, and I’m sorry.”

Clint listens to Bruce ramble on about their childhood and begins to panic in his head. Oh shit what did I do? I broke Bruce. Ma is going to kill me. Bruce please stop being nervous and just look at me. I can’t figure out what I did unless you look at me or tell me.

“I like you cause you’re a good friend Bruce. Bruce you’re not having a break down are you? Shit I did something didn’t I…wait you lied to me,” he says suddenly confused as he paces in the room. He crosses his arms and looks at him worried.

“You lied to me about what Bruce?”

"I lied about a lot of things, I lied about what happened to my face and my mom and all sorts of other things I lied so much," and he dragged in a deep breath, still staring at the carpet, face pale as snow. "But I also lied about my Name, because I knew who it was when it appeared, I knew immediately and I lied because I was scared, because dad always said I’d break my soulmate if I got one, scared because I’m not /good enough/, I get scared and need saving and cry and sometimes the whole world just /sucks/ for me, so why would anyone want me as their soulmate? Why would they wanna be stuck with that, no matter how nice or okay looking I might be? So I lied, I lied and I’m still scared and I’m /sorry/, Clint, I’m /sorry/."

Clint doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t want to sound stupid so he takes a minute to gather his thoughts.

“Look Bruce unless you lied about your mom being a stay home mom sort of and she was really a kick ass assassin I kind of guessed at your home life. I mean I don’t know how bad it is or what it is all like at all, but it wasn’t hard to figure out. You came to school with your mom you had no bruises if your dad dropped you off you had a hoodie on and had bruises or cuts you said were accidents. I didn’t want to say anything about it because it’s not my place and if you would have wanted me to know you would have told me,” he swallows and takes a deep breath.

“Bruce it’s ok to be scared of finding out your soulmate. Just because you know the person or recognize them doesn’t mean you really know them. I don’t want to waste time on that but don’t you ever think no one will love you. We’re all flawed and messed up. Some worse than others but everyone still finds someone soulmate or not people come together,” he clears his throat a last time.

“What I’m trying to say is Bruce you are good enough, crying and being scared happen to everyone. It’s not a big deal. I get scared sometimes. I’m scared to miss a shot because if I do I’m just a kid with a bow nothing special. It’s really ok to get scared, I’d be worried if you weren’t scared about this whole thing. So if your soulmate turns into that much of a dick that they can’t love you because you get scared, or don’t look handsome all the time, by the way you do look handsome, cute whatever you want to call it a lot…anyway if your soulmate can’t love you for you then they’re not worth it. You just need to move on and find someone else or not worry about it. It’s not the end of the world.”

Bruce felt dizzy; he needed to sit down. No, he needed to tell Clint, now, before he chickened out. Oh, but he could avoid it, duck away and never tell him; but he wanted to, Clint could love him, right? Clint said he deserved love, so why not his?  
Because the world is never /fair/.

But Bruce couldn’t think that, not now, not with Clint so close. Oh, god, Clint.

“It’s you,” Bruce mumbled, half a whisper, staring at the ground dejectedly and digging the toe of his shoe into the carpet.


	4. The Promise

Clint sighs, “it’s me what? What did I screw up this time,” he asks rubbing his face.

Bruce looked up at Clint after a long moment, pulling in a deep breath and looking his friend—his soulmate—in the eye. “It’s you. Your Name is on my chest. You’re my soulmate,” and with that declaration he sagged under the weight of it, hugging himself tight and waiting…for a rejection, or otherwise.

“What,” he asked surprise, “but I don’t have your Name on my chest,” he said worried as he pulled his shirt up to show him his blank chest mark.

“Bruce look I don’t have your name…I can’t be your soulmate because I don’t have one. I’m sorry Bruce,” he sighs looking down, “Maybe it’s another Clint? I don’t know I’ve never heard of a blank and a Name getting together.”

"It’s you, Clint. It’s only you." Bruce tugged up his own shirt, shy but determined, and showed it, Clint B written neatly on his skin, just above his heart, "I…It’s you." He paused, frowning, "you’re not a blank, Clint. You just haven’t gotten yours yet. You’re just… a late bloomer." He looks back down as he fixes his shirt, going to wring his hands together, "it’s always been you."

Clint looks at Bruce chest then back and Bruce before whining, “argh this sucks I can’t even get the name of my soulmate yet. You see this Bruce this sucks manhood ripping right through you and me nothing. You think you can deal with a shorty for a few years,” he asks getting close enough to stand in front of Bruce.

He stands there nervously, “ah fuck it,” he says before he stands on his tip toes and gives Bruce a kiss on the lips, “next time lean down giant.”

Bruce stares at Clint with wide eyes, blinking rapidly, and he just gapes for a moment, “I can…I can deal with having a cherub for a little while,” Bruce stammers, biting his lip before reaching out to touch his cheek. 

“So you…Don’t mind? You…You want me? As your soulmate?”

Clint smiles, “naw you’re my giant. I was getting jealous of you having a soulmate and not being able to hang out with you anymore. So that’s a yes to the soulmate thing. As long as your fine having a short soulmate boyfriend whatever you wanna call it,” he smiles and gives him a hug before pulling back and looking at him seriously, “and just because I’m the short one does not automatically mean I’m the bottom got it? We can share or do whatever you’re supposed to do when we get there.”

Bruce’s face split into a grin, and he tossed back his head, laughing, “Clint, you are the most childish, adorable thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

When he looked back down at him, he didn’t hesitate, just swooped down and gripped Clint’s face in his hands, pressing a long, sweet kiss to his lips before pulling back. And then he laughed again, hands on his shoulders now. “And don’t worry; you’d know more about it than me, so I’m sure you can be the ‘top’, cherub.”

Clint pulls a grumpy cat face when his face is squished together by Bruce but the kiss makes up for it. Clint kisses him back and grins, “ha I’ll be the best top cherub Bruce.”

He blushes a little, “well giant I don’t want to have sex yet. I think you’d feel like you were fucking a boy so let’s wait until I start getting some hair on my chest ok or better yet when I get my Name we’ll do it. So it’s a surprise. We gotta pinky promise on it,” he grins holding out his pinky.

"I’ll wait," Bruce replied, ruffling Clint’s hair with a pleased grin, "I definitely don’t mind waiting," he said bending down to kiss Clint again, chuckling.

Clint blushes, “well that’s one way to seal the deal. Hey giant this doesn’t exclude hot and heavy make-out scenes where both of us end up with boners got it. I still want that just wait on the whole take the clothes off and sex stuff alright,” he smirks giving Bruce another kiss.

Two years, five months, three days, and a few hours is when it happens but who’s counting. Clint swears as soon as he found out Bruce was his soulmate his body started changing faster. He got taller first, woke up a few weeks with his pajama pant’s shorter and high tower pants. It kind of sucked because now he couldn’t surprise his giant as much but he would still pounce on him and ask Bruce to carry him. Yeah because that part wasn’t changing even if he did get bigger.

Next came the hair everywhere phase. It was no way near as crazy as Bruce’s hair but Clint took it as a sign of growing up. He would never have the carpet Bruce had but he didn’t care that much. He took his changes in stride…well for the most part. He had Bruce to vent and complain to about outgrowing his favorite shirt, pants whatever happened. Plus if he was whinny enough it usually lead to awesome make outs and awkward boners. It was hot turning on your soulmate with just kissing and a few touches.

Anyway two years, five months, three days, and a few hours is when he finally got the name. He was in the bathroom shirt off brushing his teeth in the mirror when he saw it. He drops his toothbrush and races to his cellphone not caring about the drool or paste smeared over his face. He dials Bruce’s number and calls him waiting for a ring, “Bruce it happened.”

Bruce had grown more into himself in those two years, though he didn’t count quite as much as Clint did. But he’d grown in different ways, grown into a confidence, grown into a self-acceptance, grown into a far less awkward, well, /almost/, man. Less hunched shoulders, more sharp edges and wide smiles—mostly for Clint, but that didn’t matter—and, well, a lot more self-defense then before. His father was still a breed of evil all his own, but Bruce didn’t cower like a dog anymore. He had a reason to stand tall.

He’d waited patiently for Clint to grow, watched him grow into that roguish handsome he’d always wanted, and started calling him Cupid instead of Cherub, just because his little angel wasn’t so little anymore and when he got the call, the call he’d been waiting for, for two years, he answered it with a smile, as always, and nearly dropped the phone when Clint told him.

“I’ll be over in a minute,” he said instantly, hardly waiting to hear Clint’s reply before he was off his bed and tugging on his shoes, checking his hair in his mirror and grinning. It would be official, now. They’d officially be soulmates. No if’s, and’s, or but’s about it.

Bruce didn’t waste time trying to sneak out the front door, and climbed out his window, going quickly down the street towards Clint’s house.

Clint hangs the phone up after Bruce’s reply and looks at his room excited, “oh shit he’s coming and nothing’s ready shit shit shit.”

He rushes back in the bathroom and rinses his mouth out and cleans his teeth another time. He jumps in the shower getting a quick one.

“You did not think this through all the way Clint buddy,” he says getting out of the shower towel wrapped around his waist as he gets into his cleaner clothes and rushing to shave and put his cologne on. He tries to tidy up his room mostly stuff, stuff in the closet or under the bed before he straightens his sheets out looking at his work.

He fidgets getting nervous as he paces in his room bouncing on the edge of his toes excited and scared since this will be the first time they’ve seen each other’s body. Luckily he had been reading up on what was supposed to happen and talked to Bruce about it over lunch at school. It was a win win for him. He found out what Bruce would like and he got his giant to blush at the same time.

Bruce was patting himself down the whole way over, trying to make sure he looked decent, even if he couldn’t see himself. He was wearing a t-shirt, a pair of jeans Clint always said he liked on him, so that was good, and he’d already taken a shower and shaved that morning, so he should’ve been totally good. Well, he hoped. Oh god, he was panicking, but he ignored that when he saw Clint’s house come into view, running a hand through his curls and taking a deep breath.

He opted out of going to the front door—god forbid his /mom/ answer or something—and went to knock on Clint’s window, something they’d been doing when makeout sessions were desperately needed late at night. He checked his breath quickly, swallowing hard.

Clint sees Bruce coming in and helps him get inside before shutting the window. He goes over to his door and locks it and gets nervous, “so…um you ready?”

Bruce looks down, blushing as he twiddles his thumbs. God, but he was /nervous/. When he glanced up, he was biting his lip, “can I, um…Can I see it,” he asked, gesturing towards his own chest. “first? I’ve always wanted to…See my name on you.” He cleared his throat, blushing more.

Clint grins, “sure thing freckles. Mind taking your shirt off too so I’m not the only one half naked,” he smirks as he begins to take his shirt off slowly and moves closer to Bruce and grabs one of his hands and puts it over the mark, “all yours giant.”

Bruce tugs his shirt off, slightly abashed, because while he’s thin and freckly and pale, Clint’s grown…quite a bit into himself, and he’s certainly not without muscle and when Bruce touches his name he traces it with gentle fingers, letting out a soft sigh of wonder as a smile pulls at his lips, “all mine,” he murmurs, before looking up at Clint from beneath his lashes, “I’m yours too, of course.”

Clint smirks, “you better be giant we got each other’s name you nut.”

He smiles and traces his fingers over Bruce’s skinny arms, “you have a ton of freckles Bruce. I wonder if I could count them all,” he grins as he runs his hands over Bruce’s chest “are they everywhere?”

Bruce ducks his head, biting his lip, and shrugs, “as far as I can tell, they’re everywhere,” he murmured, blushing and peeking at Clint nervously. “It’d take a while to count ‘em all,” he said, smiling softly as he traced his fingers from Clint’s chest to his side, “you’d have to really…work at it.”

Clint grins at Bruce, “aw Bruce baby you should know how persistent I can be,” he leads Bruce to his bed and sits down next to him and rubs the back of his head. “So I got condoms…like a shit ton of them in the drawer and lube too so don’t worry about breaking them or anything ok Bruce,” he says blushing a little before he gives Bruce a kiss on the lips and pulls back.

“You want to lie down on the bed or do you want to straddle me?”

Bruce sat down on the edge of the bed, biting his lower lip nervously as he looked at Clint. “I, uh…” Clint always sounded so /casual/ about these sorts of things, and Bruce felt like an inexperienced virgin next to him—even if his cupid was still a virgin too.  
“I’ll lay down,” he murmured, fighting the urge to hide his face as he scooted further back on the sheets.

Clint nods his head blushing and watches Bruce lay down on the bed. Clint stand up and gets his pants off leaving him only in his boxers.

“Thought it would be easier later on,” he gulps, “You wanna take your pants off too,” he asks standing beside the bed.

Bruce focused on unbuttoning his jeans and kicking them to the floor, ignoring the flush already spreading from his face to down across his shoulders and chest. He shifted on the bed, getting comfortable as he rests on his elbows, and looks up at Clint with wide eyes, “o-okay.”

Clint grins, “wow Bruce you get any redder you’ll look like you got a sunburn,” he teases as her hovers over Bruce putting his hands on the side of Bruce on the bed and his knees straddling over Bruce and squeezing Bruce’s waist.

“Bruce relax it was a joke,” he smiles as he gives him a kiss, “just like making out ok.”

Bruce takes a deep breath, leaning up to press a firmer kiss to Clint’s lips, “Just like making out, huh,” he chuckled softly, reaching up to run his hands through Clint’s hair, “hopefully with a more satisfying ending?”

Clint chuckles kissing him back, “ain’t going to be no cold showers today Bruce. So you better put out all you can freckles,” he smiles and begins to kiss him as he straddles over him. He runs his hands through Bruce’s hair and gives it a soft tug.

Bruce lets out a soft sigh—he always loved it when Clint pulled his hair—and ran his hands slowly around the circle of Clint’s waist, splaying his hands at the small of his back as he pressed up against him and pressed heated kisses against his lips, “I could say the same for you. Better give out, Cupid,” he huffed, chuckling.

“You have no clue freckles,” he chuckles as he dips his head down and begins to suck on Bruce’s neck feeling the pulse between the lips. “Hey look at that, you have two marks that say your mine,” he goes back to kissing him on the neck leaving various hickies and bites from his neck to his chest.

Bruce makes soft, muffled sounds as Clint moves his way down his throat, arching his neck, and his eyes flutter shut as he grips Clint’s sides.

“Good. Make sure everyone sees,” he mumbles, smiling dreamily.

Clint hisses in pleasure when Bruce grabs his waist, “you got it freckles,” he grins as he trails his kisses down to Bruce’s waist band. Clint looks up at Bruce’s face and puts his hand under Bruce’s waist band. “you ok freckles?”

Bruce looks down at Clint, face flushed, less embarrassed now and far more pleased, “I’m great, Cupid,” he replies, watching his soulmate with hooded eyes, “just great.”

Clint grins as he gives Bruce’s tummy a kiss before taking the boxers off.

Clint has an arm around Bruce in his bed. He’s still a little sweaty from before but he’s happy. He brushes Bruce’s hair from his face smiling.

“Hey was it ok Bruce?”

Bruce is curled towards Clint, smiling blearily and running an absent hand up and down Clint’s arm. He nodded, “it was good. Great.” He let out a sigh. “worth the wait.” He looked up to Clint, smiling tiredly, “how about…for you,” he asked, glancing down again as he asked.

Clint smiles and kisses Bruce’s forehead, “well it was kind of awkward in the beginning but I’m glad it was with you freckles.”

He tilts Bruce’s head up, “hey don’t get self-conscious on me now giant,” he leans down and gives him a kiss, “it was great for a first time but practice makes perfect,” he smirks. “Plus I still didn’t get to count all your freckles maybe I’ll make it to five next time.”

He chuckles and gives Bruce another kiss, “I love you Bruce…you know that right,” he asks a little nervous.

Bruce chuckles, nuzzling against Clint and kissing him back, before Clint says he loves him and he blinks in surprise. He was…serious, not the joking ‘love you, man’ or the ‘dude you’re the best I love you’. He was serious, and for a moment Bruce just stared at him, before he broke into a soft, happy smile, and leaned forward, kissing Clint’s cheek and hiding his face in the side of his neck, pulling him close. “I love you too, Clint,” he mumbled against his skin.

Clint blushes and smiles as he hugs Bruce and pulls him in for a kiss, “you’re perfect Bruce just perfect don’t you forget it.”

He sniffs Bruce hair and smiles smelling Bruce. This skinny little freckled nerd loves him. Him the adrenaline junkie supreme. It was amazing and he had no idea what to do now. Sure some soulmates got married others stayed really good friends and others like Bruce’s dad broke up.

His Bruce was not broken so it was one of the other two options. Married? He was in high school for fucks sake and just staying friends? Yeah crossed and destroyed that border fifteen minutes ago so what were they now? What were they going to do?

Clint rubs Bruce’s back and holds him, “so what do we do now? Where do we go from here?”

Bruce hummed, resting his face on Clint’s shoulder and shrugging, “nowhere to go, is there? Graduate, go to college, stay together…That’s all we really need to do.” He reached out, taking Clint’s hand and entwining their fingers, “afterwards, who knows? I mean, I don’t care, so long as you’re with me,” he smiled dreamily, “Wwe can just keep doing this, too. That’d be nice.”

Clint rubs his thumb over Bruce’s hand and smiles holding his hand, “alright it’s set then. We’ll stay together whatever that means and whatever it becomes in the future,” he leans over and gives Bruce a kiss on the lips. “There I sealed the deal with a kiss now you’re stuck with me Bruce.”

Bruce nodded, grinning, and kissed the tip of Clint’s nose, “stuck for life,” he replied, chuckling.  



End file.
